It only happens when they are drunk
by superninjagurl
Summary: It only happens when they are drunk. When the music has died down and they are enclosed by darkness and the flickering lights of the city night. Puck walks him home – they steady each other, Kurt's body is so warm and inviting pressed up against his side.


**IT ONLY HAPPENS WHEN THEY ARE DRUNK**

It only happens when they are drunk. When the music has died down and they are enclosed by darkness and the flickering lights of the city night. Puck walks him home – they steady each other, Kurt's body is so warm and inviting pressed up against his side. Kurt giggles excitedly, Puck barks out in laughter at the things he whispers breathily into his ear. The top buttons of Kurt's shirt are popped open, pale skin exposed to the warm summer night. The soft breeze ruffles his hair, a few stray strands of chocolate covering his forehead. When they are outside his door, Puck sways and leans forward, strokes them away and his fingers linger, pressed carefully into his scalp. Kurt does not even have to ask. His hazy, but still so clear eyes, tells Puck that he knows, that he will let him in like he always does when they are drunk, because it only happens when they are drunk.

Kurt opens the door, leaning back into the comforting embrace of Puck's chest and arms, stretching out his neck when he tastes his skin with his tongue, lips and teeth. They stumble across the threshold, hushing each other through the mindless giggles because Mrs Peterson upstairs has got ears like a bat and she has complained before. Kurt is watching him with such warmth in his eyes as he leans against the door he just closed. It tingles in his belly, the drunken laughter residing beneath the surface, bubbling inside. Kurt turns his head towards him when Puck leans in close, his wet breath ghosting over his cheek and he closes his eyes briefly, nudging his nose with his. Puck can not help the smile relentlessly tugging at the corners of his mouth and he can not help catching Kurt's bottom lip between his teeth, only releasing it when those bright eyes flutter open and slender hands wraps themselves around his waist. Puck grins as Kurt smiles, burying his face next to his neck and he whispers that he is so fucking beautiful right now, right in this moment and Kurt only holds him tighter. His shirt creases between his fingers.

They undress on their way towards the darkened bedroom: popping buttons, dropping shirts and Puck is in his underwear when he falls over Kurt on the bed, the mattress creaking beneath their combined weight. Puck works the fly of Kurt's pants open, sliding down his body as he pulls the navy blue fabric away to reveal inches of porcelain skin. He tastes the marks the seams of his tight jeans have made upon his body, relishing in the breathy moan it draws from Kurt's lips, the way his thighs twitch with the steadily growing excitement.

Puck kicks off his boxers and covers his body with his own, his erection press against his and there is a beautiful flush blossoming over Kurt's torso and throat. Their lips brush against each other carefully, tentatively, trying it out before Puck palms his cheek and brings them together with surety. He claims his mouth with an odd sense of calm and determination, with a need deeply ingrained into his bones and an underlying passion burning within.

Kurt lets his legs fall open for him. He lets him inside, his half-lidded eyes dark with trust and lust and Puck can not look away from his dilated pupils when he enters him. A crease appears between his eyebrows and Puck stays still, willing the pain away with his thumb brushing over Kurt's wrist in a gentle caress. Not until the frown evens out does he allow himself to move within him, to feel any pleasure. He rolls his hips, watching the lines in Kurt's face relax and fade, his plump lips part with an inaudible moan. He watches him come undone because of him, rosy cheeks and quivering thighs, and he fights his own urges to make sure that it feels good for him, somewhere hoping that the message will get through but it never does.

He comes inside of him, just after Kurt's muscles seize and he releases. He pulls out knowing that he will stick to the sweaty insides of his legs, knowing that he will have to wash him away in the morning, still feeling him even after he is gone and it brings a deep sense of satisfaction to his sated body.

A siren goes off outside the safe confines of Kurt's apartment, making the real world so much more prominent again. Kurt moves his head upon his chest, his cheek over his heart, and Puck can feel his eyelids fluttering shut. His fingers shift upon his hip, his thumb rolling over the sharp bone hidden underneath. Kurt hums softly and Puck smiles weakly towards the ceiling. He will stay until the morning, he thinks as their legs entwine with each other and Kurt's calm breathing turns into quiet snores.

He could be someone for Kurt, he thinks like he always does, but in the end Puck always fails to mention that the clear liquid in his plastic cup is nothing but water, because it only happens when they are drunk.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Just a little something to get my writing going again after my hiatus. I have now finally graduated high school with a diploma and an award for the best grades in my year, so the break from writing Puckurt was at least good for something. Hopefully I will soon have time to start writing on the next installment of Letterman Jacket. _

_Please review and tell me if I have lost it or not!_

_Lots of love,  
>Becka<em>


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